


Netflix and Feathers

by GlitterSkullFairy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel/Dean Winchester Wing Kink, M/M, My First Castiel/Dean Winchester Fanfiction, Netflix and Chill, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Smut, Wing Kink, Wings, wow there's a tag for that!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-04-10
Packaged: 2020-01-11 03:38:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18422031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlitterSkullFairy/pseuds/GlitterSkullFairy
Summary: Dean needs a pillow while they watch a movie together.  Cas has a better idea.It all leads to some feather fondling and a very happy ending all around.





	Netflix and Feathers

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first venture into this Fandom. EEEEEEEAK!
> 
> I wasn't planning on it, but I needed some Destiel wingfic to quote in another fic (it all got a bit meta) and it turned out the easiest way was just to write my own.  
> This is not the most inspired, drawn out, well-thought-plot version of Destiel by any stretch, but it does have a lot of feathers. And smut. Because of... reasons. Also hopefully the feels come through.

Dean hesitated by Castiel’s room, unsure whether to go in, but the door was ajar, so he peered inside. Cas was reading some old book, legs stretched out in front of him on the bed, crossed at the ankles. He’d taken his coat and jacket off, and looked positively naked in his white shirt and tie. “Cas…” The name fell out of his mouth before he could stop it, and shit, now he had to think up an excuse for being here.

The angel looked up from his book. He hadn’t been reading it anyway. Too many distracting thoughts. About their fight, about the impending apocalypse (again) and their usual lack of options. He’d only done what he had to do to protect the people he loved. One of whom, in particular, was stood in his doorway. “Can we not do this again, please?”

“Do what?”

”Fight. Bicker. Argue. I’m tired if it.”

“I didn’t come here to fight Cas.”

“Then why did you come here?”

_I came because I missed you, dammit,_ he thought. _And I just wanted hang out._ But the words, as always, remained unspoken. At least he managed to take a step closer.

Cas lay on his bed, still staring up at Dean. An image flashed through his memory, Dean standing over him with silver sword in his hand, having slain yet another monster to save his life. He wanted his friend back. He wanted to go back to secretly hoping that one day Dean would just walk over and kiss him, knowing it would never actually happen. Maybe he should pretend for a while that it would. “To talk? Or we could watch something. There’s a few things I’ve marked on Netflix that could be quite educational.”

“Are you suggesting we Netflix and chill?” Dean couldn’t help but smirk.

“I’m guessing by your look that means something I’m not fully aware of.” He moved to one side of the bed, swapping the book for a laptop. He jerked his head in invitation.

“Are you sure don’t know what it means?”

“I could look it up.” His fingers began to type the words.

Dean intercepted him with a gesture. “Let’s just leave that for now.” He sat down next to his friend. There wasn’t a lot of room. He kept his back upright and leaned his head against the wall behind him. Cas was rather more slouched. His shoulder was lightly resting against Dean’s upper arm. He steadfastly ignored the way it made his heart skip a beat, but didn’t try to pull away.

Cas flicked through the selections, and chose a western. As the introduction played, his arm relaxed and fell into the small space between their bodies. Dean bore the inner turmoil of indecision for about ten minutes. Then he thought about where he was, and the entire randomness of the situation, and the fact that it was Cas and he’d asked him to be here, and his arm casually sank down from his lap. He could feel the warmth radiating from him on the back of his hand, and had to focus to keep his breath under control. He was so near, less than an inch separating them.

Movie. Think about the movie. He’d lost the plot already. Luckily, one dude stood out from the crowd in his white hat. Awesome. Just about the right level of brain power required. He had to tilt his head a little to see the small screen clearly. That was the real reason. Nothing to do with the fact that it meant he could smell the clean scent of Castiel’s hair.

His finger twitched, completely involuntarily. It brushed the back of Cas’ hand. _Shit._ Maybe he wouldn’t notice. He stared at the screen, but it meant nothing more than flickering light. Then Cas moved his hand, ever so slightly, just enough so that their skin was touching again. And it stayed there.

This was absolutely ridiculous. He was acting like a teenage virgin. His heart was racing because they were almost holding hands, and he was too chicken to take the next step. But there was a line, and although they were dancing very close to it, they hadn’t crossed it yet. He could still walk away like nothing had happened, and there would be no awkwardness and they could carry on being friends. But if he moved his fingers, caressed and hooked them into the angel’s hand, then the whole thing would have an intention behind it that could not be so easily brushed aside. So he sat there, bathing in the warmth of the touch, and doing nothing.

Until he got a crick in his neck. He ignored it for as long as he could. He knew if he moved, the spell would be broken, and he really didn’t want to let go. But eventually he had to. He winced as he stretched his back out and pulled at his neck, and aching with loss as the hand touching his moved away. 

Cas hit pause and looked at him. “I’m sorry, you’re not comfortable.”

“Sure, I am, it’s just a little kink, I’m good.”

And there was Cas’ hand again, reaching towards his neck, touching him. For a very confusing minute he thought he was about to get pulled in for a kiss, but then the pain vanished. Right. Although there was no reason he had to touch his neck, when he thought about it, the healing touch could just have easily have been on his shoulder, or the top of his head. And Cas was letting go very slowly, running his hand down Dean’s back before taking it away.

Dean was getting confused. His brain was screaming that this was it, these were the signals, he should totally make a move. But it was Cas. He might not even realise what he was doing. And Dean couldn’t risk putting it out there until he was sure. But he certainly had no intention of leaving. “Hey, have you got an extra pillow tucked away somewhere I could borrow?”

“I can do better than that,” Cas said, his mouth twitching up a little at one corner. “Move up a second.”

Dean scooched along the bed, unsure what was coming. He startled a little when he heard a rush of displaced air and turned to see Cas surrounded by something dark and shining. His brain wasn’t working on all cylinders so it took him a moment to figure out what he was looking at. 

“Don’t be afraid,” Cas said gently.

Dean blinked. That’s what they always said, wasn’t it, in the Bible? Suddenly it made sense. Those big dark shapes were wings. Shimmering, oil black, feathered, freaking wings. And they were freaking _gorgeous._

“Perhaps this is too much,” Cas said, his eyebrows creasing. “I should-” he began to pull them back.

“No!” Dean interrupted, a little too fiercely. “I mean, I’m good.”

“Are you sure? Your heart’s pounding.” 

Because of course he could sense it. “You just surprised me is all.”

Cas nodded, leaning back. He fluttered his feathers invitingly. Dean’s brain finally caught up. “That’s your idea of a spare pillow?”

“Is there something wrong with that?”

Dean’s mind flashed with an image of curling up in those magnificent wings, having them curled around him, brushing against his bare skin… _Stop. Stop right there. Just sit back and enjoy the movie._ “No,” he squeaked, cleared his throat and tried again. “Nothing wrong with that at all.”

He settled back down. It was soft, but less like a pillow and more like a fuzzy arm. There were bones and muscles as well as feathers. He felt like he was being supported. Hugged. Cas was hugging him. In bed. Watching a western. A warmth bloomed in his chest, making him bold. He let his hand drop down the side of bed, let it brush against the feathers that were draped there. This was okay, right? Cas probably couldn’t even feel it, like when you play with the ends of a girl's long hair. The thought was a good one. He let his fingers play through the shafts, caressing them, twirling around them. Doing all the things he’d wanted to do to Cas’ hand, but hadn’t dared. He relaxed and began to enjoy the movie. It was actually quite entertaining. The minutes passed. The hero got into trouble. It was starting to look like he might not escape, but they always did. The screen froze as Cas hit pause again. Dean turned to him, noticing immediately how his chest rose and fell, the way his pupils were blown.

“Dean, you do realise I can feel that, right?”

“You can?”

“Hmmmm.” He laid his head back and closed his eyes.

“Oh. Um. Should I stop?”

“I’d rather you didn’t. But I should warn you that it’s very… intimate.”

“It doesn’t bother you? I mean, being intimate, with me?”

His eyes opened again, piercing Dean with a look. “Why would it?”

“We are talking about the same thing here, right?”

“Dean, there a great many… intimate… things that I’d be more than happy to do with you. But up until this evening I always thought that you would flee at the thought.”

“I’m not fleeing.”

“I noticed that.”

They sat there, staring at each other, for what felt like an eternity. Then Dean made a decision. He took the laptop, closed it, and carefully placed it on the floor. Then he turned around so he was facing Cas, and began to stroke his wing. The feathers were soft and silky, reflecting rainbows where they caught the light. He twined his fingers between them and heard Cas gasp. “That good, huh?” Dean whispered, feeling ever so slightly self-conscious. 

Cas only nodded. Dean pressed his fingers a little deeper and watched his expression change. “Oh, boy.”

“Yeah,” Cas said. “Hhhnnnnggh,” he added, as Dean worked his fingers again.

That was a sex noise. That was definitely a sex noise. He relaxed his fingers, gently stroking the feathers back into place before letting go reluctantly. 

“I’m sorry, Dean.”

“Hey, I’m not stopping, just slowing down. I don’t know how this wing thing works, but it feels like I’ve gone straight in for the heavy groping when we haven’t even held hands or, you know, kissed.”

“Kissing? You’d find that agreeable?”

Dean chuckled. “Yes, Cas, I’d find that more than agreeable.”

Those beautiful blue eyes just kept staring at him, like he still couldn’t quite believe it. Or maybe he just didn’t know what to do next. Dean placed a hand on his cheek, his thumb running over rough stubble. “You know what this means to me right? I’ve wanted this for a very long time. But we don’t have to rush into anything, if you have any doubts.”

“No doubts,” Cas said, sitting up and curling both wings around Dean protectively. “And we do. Have to rush things, I mean. Either one of us could die in the battle that’s coming, and I don’t want to have rescue you from death again without having experienced full intimacy.”

Which, coming from Castiel, was just such an epically romantic thing to say. Dean leaned closer and pressed their lips together, his pulse racing. It was finally happening, after all these years. He took Cas’ face in both hands, holding him close, but Cas wasn’t going anywhere. Their foreheads pressed together as their lips parted. Dean curled his fingers up into his hair and pulled him back in again, opening his mouth this time, nudging rough lips apart with his tongue. Cas responded, his whole body coming up to meet Dean’s, his hands moving around to his back and clutching, needing. The kiss deepened and quickly turned more passionate. The hands at his back were moving up and underneath his shirt, seeking skin. Dean obliged, stripping off both his shirt and the T-shirt underneath. He quickly kicked off his boots too and then Cas was pushing him back down onto the mattress, leaning over him with wings spread. He pulled the tie loose and threw it to the floor, ripping his own shirt open and then lying on top of Dean, pressing their skin together. Dean’s hips rocked up, his jeans rapidly becoming very uncomfortable. He could feel Cas’ hard length lining up with his own. He had no idea where this urgency came from, but his hands were on Cas’ hips, lifting them enough so that he could get to his belt. Cas got the picture and rolled to the side, his hands on denim, popping buttons and setting him free. As soon as his own pants were unfastened, he kicked them off and out the way. He even _somehow_ managed to get his shirt off while Dean struggled out of his jeans and they were both fully naked. Without pausing, their bodies were pressed together once again, clinging, cocks rubbing side by side, lips and tongues meeting.

Dean rolled onto his back again, pulling Cas on top of him, reaching up to stroke his wings. He explored the feel of the feathers, the way they moved under his fingers, the contrast between the hard, thin shafts and soft plumes. His hands moved up to feel the top of them, like strong, bunched shoulder muscles, with joints like elbows. He ran his fingers across one of those joints, massaging it, and Cas let out a long, needy moan. Dean ground up into him, hard, grasping fistfuls of feathers and Cas arched and threw his head back with a shout. He could feel the angel coming on his belly, the hot, slippery wetness making everything feel ten times better. He pulled Cas back down, holding him tight and panting, needing nothing more at that moment but the sweet thrill of release. A few more frantic jerks of his hips and he found it, spilling over with a deep groan.

Neither of them moved. The whole thing had not taken more than five minutes, but now that they had both been physically gratified, a different kind of need took over. The need to just be near, feeling each other, staying connected. They soaked each other up, slaking a thirst that had building for the best part of a decade. Their breathing began to synchronise, in and out in the same rhythm. Dean let his lips brush along whatever parts of Cas he could reach, skin and feathers. Eventually, the angel raised his head and met his eyes. “Dean…” his voice barely more than an exhale.

“I know, Cas. I know.” _That you love me. That we belong to each other. That nothing in the universe is ever going to keep us apart again._ Not that either of them would say those things. They didn’t need to. Cas fluttered slightly and their positions somehow reversed. His wings wrapped all around Dean’s body, caressing his skin. He pressed their lips together again, never wanting to let go. It was tender, and lingering, and everything that the kiss of true lovers should be. Cas sighed in contentment, his hips tilting, wanting. “More?” Dean asked, astonished.

Cas smiled. Dean’s heart pretty much exploded at the sight. “Angel magic,” he explained. “You can have as much as you like, whenever you like. With the exception of when we’re busy saving Earth from annihilation, of course.”

“Of course. Because that would be irresponsible.”

“It would.”

“There’s no danger of that happening right now, though, is there?”

“No imminent danger, no.”

He grinned. “Awesome.”

The feathers were soft on his back, and the body of the angel was firm beneath him, and it felt like he was home. 

They began to rock against each other again, much more slowly than before. Dean let himself explore Cas’ body, really looking at it. It wasn’t just his vessel anymore, he’d been killed and resurrected as much as any of them, and he seemed to have just become the shape that he once inhabited. It was strange to think that this wasn’t entirely _him_. Then his fingers trailed off skin and into feathers, dark and gleaming. _That_ was all Castiel. No wonder it was so intimate. He was touching the part of him that nobody else saw, certainly no other human had touched him like that. He buried his fingers deep, loving the way it made Cas squirm, loving the soft, delicate feel of him and the power he knew that he held. 

Cas was just letting his own hands wander, he seemed uncertain what to do with them. Most likely he was. Dean didn’t care. All he wanted was for Cas to keep touching him, he knew enough to make the rest work. But it did mean he might have to take the lead. He let the kissing and touching continue for a long time, but his body wanted more. Hell, the reduced refractory period was a miracle in itself, but it was more than just his cock that was aching. He could feel the longing in his chest, in his gut and his thighs. He just wanted to hold the angel in his arms and be one with him.

“Cas?”

“Hmm?”

“When you mentioned ‘full intimacy,’ did you have anything in particular in mind?”

“Just you,” Cas replied, peppering his neck with kisses between words. “Connecting with you. Intimately.”

“You’re going to make me ask the question, aren’t you?”

“What question?”

“Top or bottom?” He really hoped he didn’t have to explain what that meant.

“You mean for penetration?”

How could he make that word sound so clinical and so sexy at the same time. “Penetration. Yup.” 

Cas pushed him up to sitting, and they knelt facing each other. “Either way is new to me, so I’ll let you decide.” His lips trailed down the front of Dean’s chest, his eyes staring at his cock as if he’d never seen one before. “Is it okay to kiss you there?” he asked. “I want to taste all of you.”

“Yes, absolutely. If you don’t mind the mess.” Cas made the “mess” disappear with a wave of his hand. “Neat trick. But just, stop when I say so, okay?” He rose up on his knees to make it easier, and Cas lowered his head. With him bent forwards, Dean could see the place where his wings joined his back. There was a stripe of pale skin down the middle. As he reached to touch it, he felt Cas lick him with a hot, wet tongue. He grunted and tensed. Cas pulled back.

“Was that wrong?”

“Nope. That’s a noise I make sometimes when I like it.”

“I’ll remember that,” Cas smiled again, eyes glinting like sapphires. Dean felt his chest swell. Not just his chest. And then Cas was licking him again, swirling his tongue, taking him into his mouth and sucking. Dean had one hand in his hair, the other on the top of his wing, both of them clutching and kneading. Cas made a similar grunting noise and swallowed him deeper, his cheeks hollowing, and then deeper still, until his lips were brushing on short curls. Dean’s breath became ragged as he fought for control, because no way was he tapping out just yet. But oh, it felt amazing. His hand caught in Cas’ hair and he held him still as he pulled his hips back and then plunged his cock back into his throat. Cas noted the grunt, and though he couldn’t smile with his mouth full, he did give Dean a raised eyebrow. He started bobbing his head up and down slowly, taking Dean to the hilt each time. Less than a dozen strokes like that and Dean was almost done. “Stop!” he yelled, perhaps a bit too loudly, and Cas slid his lips back with a wet pop. “How on earth do you know how to do that?”

“I don’t. I was just experimenting. Would you like me to carry on?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, but keep it slow. And maybe, go easy on the suction? I want this to last.”

Cas didn’t answer, because his mouth was already busy again. Dean tried to enjoy it while not thinking about it too closely. His hands went onto the angel’s wings and slid down the back of them, sliding from feather to glossy black feather. The colour made him think of his car. For a moment he moved his hands in gentle circles, just like he was polishing his Baby. This was better. Except he was ruffling those beautiful feathers, and the way they stuck up did not look comfortable, so he focussed on smoothing them all back into alignment. He felt fingers tightening on his hips. Even that only provided a minor distraction from the intense pleasure of his dick down Castiel’s throat. He had to pull away, he wanted more, he wanted their bodies locked together and Cas falling apart.

Dean pulled Cas upright and held him, chest to chest, skin to skin. Their kisses were wild.

“I think we need to have intercourse now,” Cas said, when Dean pulled his lower lip between his teeth.

“Yes, Cas, I think we do.” He ran his tongue over Castiel’s neck. “How do you feel you feel about sitting on my dick?”

“Hnngghh.” His eyes fluttered shut and his body pressed tighter against Dean.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Dean laid on his back and Cas quickly straddled him, reaching behind to line himself up. “Hey, dude, wait up. You’re gonna want something to lubricate that, trust me. It’ll be better for both of us.” 

Cas turned and opened a small draw beside the bed. He pulled out a bottle of lube. Dean raised his eyebrows.

“Have you been keeping that just in case?”

“Actually, I started buying it when I was human. This stuff has a long shelf life, right?” he held up the bottle to check for an expiration date.

“Dude, that was years ago, I am not putting that shit on my cock.”

“I’m kidding. I buy a fresh one whenever one of us comes back from the dead. In case we want to celebrate.”

“You’re totally messing with me, aren’t you?”

Cas just grinned.

“You are an evil sick bastard.”

“I know. But you love me anyway.” He bent down and kissed away any further rebuke. Dean took the bottle from him and opened it, keeping their lips together all the while. They only separated when Cas drew back with a surprised “Oh!” as a slick finger spread something cold between his legs. Dean kept his face near with a hand on the back of his neck. 

“This might feel weird, first time,” Dean whispered. “Just relax and don’t fight it.” He pressed his finger tentatively, letting it slip inside. He felt Cas clench and release. There was very little resistance, so he added another, exploring gently. Cas opened when he pressed, and tightened when he let go. It was too easy. He withdrew his fingers and smeared his cock, releasing his hold on his lover’s neck. It should have been awkward, a bit of a fumble to find the way in, some trial and error as Cas adjusted to his girth. It wasn’t. Cas just slid over him, like they’d done it a thousand times already. The circle of his muscles was incredibly tight around Dean’s head, so he pushed slightly deeper. Cas took it, rolling his shoulders and flicking his wings in pleasure. He pushed himself down, taking the entire length of him. He was tight and warm and beautiful. Dean couldn’t believe it was actually real. Cas looked down. Their eyes met. It was everything. Everything they’d been through up until this moment. The death, the torments, the struggles, the heartaches- it was all worth it, to be here, together, knowing the full extend of their bond, their love.

“Cas…” he smiled, forgetting in the moment not to be a sappy bitch.

“I know, Dean.” He spread his knees wide and dropped his body forward so that they could kiss, still keeping those eyes locked, blue to green. Dean slowly rolled his hips, making them both smile, and wound his arms around Cas’ lower back. His fingers traced upwards, seeking that line where skin became feathers, wondering at the feel of it. It should have seemed alien making love to an angel, but it was natural and right. He mapped the edge, his fingers rocking back and forth between the two different textures, and Cas made a very pleased sound that came from deep in his throat. This was a good spot then. He teased it a little more, making Cas quiver all the way from his arches to his tips. Not yet. Too much, too soon. This time, it was not going to be over so quickly. He brought his hands back down to Cas’ hips, holding him to press in and out slowly, as deep as he could go. They exchanged kisses, and touches and tender glances. It was perfect.

Gradually, but inevitably, their passion rose higher. Dean’s hips curled a little faster; Cas pushed himself up halfway rode him a little harder. Fingers found their way back into feathers, and Castiel’s spine was undulating with the euphoria it brought. Each new sensation was a delight that brought them one step closer to a peak. The intimacy only grew with the urgency, their needs perfectly synched. Dean was thrusting quickly; he grabbed two handfuls of the largest feathers he could reach and pulled. Cas bolted upright, tensing, and Dean wrapped his fingers around his leaking cock. He swept the moisture down the shaft and began pumping it in time. Cas was crying out his name, begging for more, and Dean braced his legs on the bed and worked his abs wildly. Cas tightened around him, wings arching upwards majestically, spilling out white threads all over Dean’s hand and chest. Dean followed a second later as his lover’s spasms tore the orgasm from deep inside. With a final, deep thrust he filled him, and Cas collapsed into his arms.

A few minutes later, when they'd both caught their breath and recovered enough to speak, Dean chuckled. “Hey Cas.”

“Yes Dean?”

“We totally just had the most awesome sex ever.”

“Yeah we did. Why didn't we do this before?”

“Hell if I know. I'm glad we worked it out.”

“Me too.”

Cas nestled into his shoulder, neither of them having the strength of the inclination to move. Dean cradled his head and stroked absently at his feathers. The words didn't even need to be said. Their love was in their actions- every rescue, every stolen glance, every moment of simply being in the same space. And after what they'd just shared, words seemed insignificant.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it, please let me know if you do!  
> I suddenly feel like a very small fish in a very big pond.


End file.
